Dasha? What are you doing here? Svetlana was so shocked that her voice almost failed her.

Her mind was spinning wildly, jealousy and resentment burning fiercely inside her. Why was this happening to her? Hadn’t she loved her husband enough? Was she a bad wife? A neglectful mother to their son?

But what happened next was beyond anything she could have imagined.

Svetlana had always been sure that she and her husband were meant to be together. She believed it was natural and right that they had shared over ten happy years of marriage.

Today, she was returning home from a business trip she’d left for just two days ago. The boss had called her into his office the day before her departure.

— “There’s about three days’ worth of urgent work at one of our branches. No more than that. Get ready, Svetlana. Don’t even think about excuses. You leave tomorrow,” he said firmly to the slightly annoyed woman.

Svetlana had her own plans for the next few days, and a last-minute trip to another city was not part of them. But arguing with the boss was pointless — especially since he’d set a rule that only younger employees should go on trips. She was 35 now and longed for a steadier routine.

— “Kostya, I’m leaving on a business trip. It should only be for three days. Make sure Dima keeps up with his tutor — he’s been skipping lately, and I’m paying good money for lessons. Also, take care that he eats proper meals. Not chips and crackers, but soup and cutlets — I’ll leave some for you in the fridge.”

— “Alright, I’ll keep an eye on him, don’t worry,” her husband muttered, eyes glued to his phone.

— “Is that all?” Svetlana was surprised. “So you’re not upset at all that I’m leaving?”

— “Can you put down your phone for a second?” Konstantin replied. “It’s only three days, not a month. Dima and I will survive.”

For the first time in a long while, Konstantin looked up and smiled at her.

— “Wait, you’re really going? I thought you said you’d done enough business trips.”

— “They need someone experienced and strict with character, that’s what the boss said,” Svetlana replied proudly, knowing how much she was respected at work.

During her trip, Svetlana decided to return home a day early, craving a little break in her own space. She imagined spending that day alone in her apartment — her husband at work, Dima still at school — finally some peace.

She pictured running a fragrant bubble bath, putting on facial and hand masks, even sneaking in a nap — a rare luxury she hadn’t allowed herself in ages. And when Dima returned, she would feed him and help with his homework. She had almost forgotten what it felt like to truly spend time with her child. Her maternity leave had barely existed; she had rushed back to work when Dima was just ten months old, leaving him in the care of her retired aunt.

Svetlana hadn’t told her husband she was coming back early — whether by forgetfulness or intention, it no longer mattered. It was meant to be a surprise. She wanted him to come home in the evening to a hot dinner, a calm apartment, and their son’s homework done. A perfect evening — or so she thought.

On her way, she stopped to buy a bottle of dry wine and Kostya’s favorite cake, wanting to rekindle a bit of romance. Lately, the distance between them had grown. She was always caught up in work, and at home, there was always something to do. Kostya spent hours absorbed in his phone. They barely talked anymore and felt like strangers living under the same roof.

When she finally opened the door to her apartment, Svetlana didn’t notice immediately that someone else was inside. It wasn’t until she switched on the hallway light and saw unfamiliar women’s boots by the door that she froze. Then her eyes caught a light fur coat hanging in the closet, its overpowering sweet perfume making her feel sick.

Maybe it wasn’t just the scent but the harsh reality crashing down on her — no bath, no masks, no cozy evening with her family. None of that would happen now. Perhaps she wouldn’t even have a family anymore. Betrayal was a wound she could never heal or forgive.

She braced herself, struggling to keep calm so she wouldn’t look weak or pathetic in front of her husband and the woman who had dared to invade her home and her life.

Laughter and whispered voices came from the bedroom. Svetlana frantically searched for something to defend herself with — anything to strike both of them.

— “How did I let this happen?” she whispered to herself. “Why didn’t I see the distance growing between us? How did Kostya find a lover—and bring her into our bed?”

She feared her temper might get the better of her. She couldn’t afford to hurt anyone and end up in jail. She had to stay strong.

Unable to hold back any longer, Svetlana marched toward the closed bedroom door. On the way, she accidentally knocked over a tall lamp that had been moved closer to the coffee table, where a bottle of champagne and some fruit still lay.

The crash broke the silence and instantly alerted those inside.

The door swung open, revealing a figure wrapped in a sheet.

— “Dasha?” Svetlana gasped. “You? Oh my God! That perfume… I recognized it instantly!” She laughed bitterly, confronting her former close friend turned rival. “How could you? You snake! This is who you really are!”

— “Svetka? What are you doing here? I thought you were on a business trip,” Dasha stammered, clearly caught off guard.

— “Apparently, neither of you expected me back early,” Svetlana said, glaring toward the bedroom where her husband hid. “Kostya, come out! Everyone’s here now.”

— “Svetochka, you’re making a huge mistake. Calm down. You don’t understand everything,” Dasha pleaded awkwardly.

— “Oh no, those aren’t your words to say! That’s what my husband should tell me now. Kostya, come out. Time to face the music. I caught you! And thank God it’s a divorce, not a murder. Come out now!”

— “Please, listen to me,” Dasha begged.

— “Step away from the door! I want to see the face of the man who betrayed me,” Svetlana shouted, trying to push past her.

— “Svetka, please, forgive us!” Dasha begged.

— “Will you move or not? Let Kostya come out! No more hiding. It won’t save you.”

Suddenly, Dasha blurted out:

— “Kostya’s not in there.”

— “What? Don’t lie to me! Let him come out!”

Then Svetlana’s eyes locked with Dasha’s, and a chilling thought struck her.

— “Not Kostya… then who?”

For a moment, hope flickered. Could it be that her husband wasn’t cheating? That everything might still be okay? That their family could stay together, and Dima wouldn’t suffer through a divorce?

— “Who’s in there? Tell me!” she demanded.

— “Roman,” Dasha replied, eyes downcast.

Roman—Kostya’s own brother—was sitting on the bed, dressed and avoiding Svetlana’s gaze.

— “Roman? What’s happening here? Have you lost your mind? Dima will be home soon, and you’re turning our apartment into a den of shame!” she cried.

Svetlana was crushed. She had always thought of Roman as a serious, respectable man. She had admired their family as perfect.

Now she sat with the three of them in the kitchen, demanding answers. She would deal with Kostya later. Right now, she needed to understand how this had happened within the people she loved—and what might happen next.

— “We met Dasha a year ago, at Kostya’s birthday party,” Roman explained. “Remember when you took us all to the countryside? It was fun. Then I ran into her again after a fight with Marina. She keeps accusing me of not earning enough or trying hard enough. I was hurt and angry. Dasha caught my eye. I couldn’t resist.”

— “I see your type,” Svetlana sneered at Dasha. “A divorcee with a child, reckless about who you fool around with. But you, Roman, how could you? I always told Kostya to look up to your family!”

— “I’m not perfect,” Roman admitted.

— “Why here? There are hotels, rooms by the hour! What kind of nonsense is this—invading your brother’s home?” Svetlana was furious, imagining the scandal Kostya had caused by letting his brother in.

— “Our town’s small. Everyone knows me because I work for the administration. We thought this place was safer. Don’t worry, Svet — it’s not the first time. And really, Dasha and I haven’t met often, only a few times.”

— “Save me the details! What a disgrace. Dasha, we’re done being friends. How am I supposed to face Marina?”

After forcing them out, Svetlana threw herself into cleaning the apartment instead of relaxing. As she scrubbed, she reflected on her marriage. Something had to change so this nightmare wouldn’t repeat.

She needed to take more interest in Kostya’s life, talk more, listen more, and — hardest of all — stop criticizing.

She also planned to teach Kostya a lesson about giving out keys to their home.

— “Dear, I just got back from my trip, and look what I find!” she shouted into the phone.

— “You’re home already?” Kostya’s voice trembled.

— “Yes, and guess what — burglars in the apartment! Don’t worry, I locked them out with our second lock that doesn’t open from inside. They’re stuck. Police are on the way.”

— “No, don’t call the police! I’ll come home and handle this!” Kostya pleaded.

— “No, they’re criminals, they need to face the law,” she said, smirking.

— “I’m coming! I’m rushing!” he said.

When he arrived, he found his wife calm and smiling.

— “All settled?” he asked cautiously.

— “Yes, Kostya, meet your brother. But don’t ever let this happen again. Otherwise, you can go live with him. But I want you here because I love my silly husband. Our apartment is sacred — our fortress. Got it?”

— “Got it,” Kostya sighed.

— “Tonight, we’re having a romantic dinner.”

— “Really?” he asked, surprised.

— “Yes, and then you’ll tell me your dreams. Honestly. And I’ll share mine.”

— “Svetka, you’re something else. Will you tell Marina?”

— “Do I have to? Let them deal with that.”

— “You’re wise—and beautiful. Let me kiss you.”

— “What about Dima? He’s home,” she smiled, relieved knowing Kostya was at work during the day, not home to cause more trouble.